


Stare

by Nightfox



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fingerfucking, Intoxication, M/M, Multi, Public Sex, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfox/pseuds/Nightfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine drags Merlin out for a night in a rather dubious club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wangler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wangler/gifts).



> Pure PWP, seriously, not even a _hint_ of a plot. This was written as a get-well gift for [](http://lolafeist.livejournal.com/profile)[**lolafeist**](http://lolafeist.livejournal.com/) but don't blame any of the following on her!

It’s dark, so damn dark in this stinking third tier, shit-pit of a dive and he can't for the life of him imagine why he let Gwaine drag him to such a cesspool in the first place. Considering the careless prick ordered him a drink then abandoned him moments after they arrived, he’s not sure why he bothered coaxing Merlin here in the first place. He drains the cup quickly and thinks it’s probably jack and coke. At least Gwaine hasn’t forgotten what he likes to drink even if he did forget Merlin hates clubbing after they’ve already screwed. Snorting to himself he acknowledges that his friend hasn’t forgotten a thing, he just likes making Merlin trail around in public with a fucked-open arse full of lube. He orders himself another drink, drains it quickly then gets a third. Before he finishes it the bartender is setting yet another down beside it. She jerks her head towards the middle of the bar where a sandy haired man with a burn-scarred face smiles at him hopefully. He acknowledges the man with a nod but does not grace him with a smile, turning instead to scan the crowd for his erstwhile companion. He downs the remainder of his third drink and snags the last one to take along as he drifts off into the anonymous darkness.

His joints feel loose and he’s not bothering to nurse this latest libation any more than he did the ones before it. The music is harsh, deafening, ringing in his ears and buzzing along every nerve ending. The floor is sticky with spilled drinks and spilled body fluids, the funk strongest near the walls of the huge open room that forms the seedy club. A shoddily converted warehouse space, the lights are set too high above them, the feeble rays too weak to penetrate the thick gloom that fills the air like a fog, far too weak to illuminate anything clearly

There are three spotlights that do manage to pierce the gloom. Three glowing pits of light that few of the patrons court, most sticking to the shadows like roaches in a city kitchen. Against a squared pillar at the very edge of the last concentric ring of one of those columns of light Merlin sees him. Sees parts of him anyway. The dull gleam of a pale gold shoulder is dissected by the thick black swirls of tribal work. More of the dark ink curls up the side of his neck and ends in a pointed flourish just below one heavily studded ear. Sparks of light glitter off the stubble on his rounded skull and angled jaw. The dull gleam of steel curves through the skin of one eyebrow and repeats itself twice, highlighting the pout of his full lower lip. The dull glow sheens a muscular arm and a broad hand is pushed into the well worn pocket of pale jeans, a restless thumb toying with the singlet tucked into the frayed waistband. Long legs are lost to thickly clustered shadows below the knee.

He turns at that moment, eyes large and indeterminately dark in the pervasive gloom. There's more steel studding the far side of a proud nose and two small barbells thread through the thin flesh at the corner of his left eye, looking like stitches holding the fragile flesh together. Long, thin scars radiate away from the edge of that same eye spilling like silver sunshine across the high arch of a sharp cheekbone. The pattern’s too even not to be deliberate. Merlin catches his breath.

 _Fuck my Muse, he’s gorgeous!_

His stare is intense, not a glare, it's sharper than that, not angry but heated. He’s looking at Merlin, penetrating him and pinning him in place. He feels the poniard of the man’s will pierce him and fix him to the wall, a specimen on a cork board. He couldn't move now if his feet were on fire. He’s waiting, just waiting to be collected. He’s made to wait a while.

___________________________________________________

He’s young. Looks too young to even be allowed in so he knows he’s older than he appears. Leon is good, no one gets by _him_ with a fake ID. He’s pretty, so damn pretty. Huge eyes peek from just below a thick fringe of unruly black hair that curls against outrageously sharp, flaring cheekbones and clusters about a shapely skull. The thick sable waves curve around an edge of earlobe, and wave in inky abandon just kissing the back of a long, sleek neck. Even in the dim light he can see the dark bite of another man’s brand purpling the curve where that ivory column meets a sharp shoulder. He feels his cock begin to fill at the sight, rising to the challenge contained in that dark mark.

Their eyes meet and Arthur stakes a claim. Obscenely plush lips part in a wordless gasp and the pretty boy freezes where he stands. A crooked smile tugs up one side of Arthur’s mouth as he boldly lets his eyes roam over the rest of the lean, slinky creature. A long-sleeved tee stained black in the monochrome of the club’s scant light clings lovingly to the narrow planes of the boy’s slender torso. Sleek, sinuous hips are swathed tightly in more dark fabric, his legs bleed away below, impossibly long and slim.

He’s already planning where _his_ marks will go, how he will score him, the patterns he will create on that pale, porcelain skin. He can’t see much of the young man’s flesh but somehow he knows it’ll be unmarked, a beautifully blank canvas for him to work with. He takes his time, slowly raking his gaze over the visibly tremoring boy and loving how he doesn’t move. He doesn’t shift or shuffle, there are no nervously twisting hands, he simply stands there, arms loose, legs locked in place as if he already knows what is wanted of him and is fulfilling the silent request.

  
The kid’s holding a plastic cup and he drains it shakily but never breaks eye contact with Arthur. Before either of them move, a beard stubbled man with long, loose dark hair slips behind the lissome boy and wraps strong arms around his narrow waist. He insinuates both hands into the front pockets of the pretty boy’s trousers and tugs him back, settling him between firm thighs as he mouths up the unmarked side of his long, creamy throat.

Arthur can’t help it, he feels his lips curling and the adrenaline rises in his blood. His stare becomes a glare. Here is the man who left the mark of possession on the boy he wants for his own. By the looks of him, he’s intent on furthering that possession. It’s time for Arthur to collect on his claim before it slips through his fingers.

___________________________________________________

His head is whirling and his limbs are pleasantly wobbly when Gwaine wraps himself around Merlin like a warm blanket. He’s tempted to giggle as the thought crosses his mind that he has a warm blanket draped across his back and a raging fire just a few feet in front of him. _How cozy!_ He doesn’t laugh though because he sees the eyes he’s been staring into suddenly incandesce with a territorial flare. Merlin can’t help the thrill that goes through him at the naked want in that heated gaze. His joints abruptly liquefy and he sags into Gwaine’s sturdy embrace but he never takes his eyes off the fit, hot stranger who’s coming for him.

He’s flowing toward them and Merlin feels trapped. Gwaine is wrapped around him and is clearly horny as hell. He is too but it it’s not just Gwaine he’s panting to get next to and now the man with the scorching stare is heading straight for them. It’s obvious from the heated blaze in his eyes that he sees Gwaine as a threat and there’s challenge written all over him.

Merlin wriggles in Gwaine’s embrace, trying to slip from his arms with something approaching grace. Sadly his alcohol softened limbs aren’t cooperating and his friend just takes this as encouragement and slides one hand out of Merlin’s pocket and slips it into the waistband of his trousers instead. His mouth is wet against the back of Merlin’s neck and his cock is hard where it presses against the curve of his arse. Normally he’d be perfectly content to follow where Gwaine is leading but not tonight. He tries harder to shake off Gwaine’s insistent hold.

Suddenly it’s too late, _he_ is there and he’s reaching for Merlin and Merlin is reaching back.

“Merlin?”

Merlin knows Gwaine is seeking reassurance but his soft voiced query goes unanswered as the man wraps a hand around the back of Merlin’s neck and leans in to claim his mouth. His long fingers grasp the man’s arm as he feels the press of curved steel against the flesh of his lower lip and he instinctively swipes his tongue over the metal protuberances. He groans when the strangers mouth opens and a studded tongue slips past his own lips. Gwaine is momentarily forgotten as he lashes that tongue with his own slick mouth muscle. He’s not usually one for battle but he’s also never just taken without giving back. A victory isn’t important here, it’s the skirmish that counts.

Too soon the man pulls back and Merlin whimpers at the loss.

“You wanna lose the Pantene model?”

His voice rasps hoarsely in Merlin’s ear and he feels his boneless toes curl. Without a thought he’s pushing at Gwaine’s hands, weakly trying to dislodge his friend. However, Gwaine’s having none of it.

“Merlin? Are you alright? How much have you had?”

“Let go. I wanna go. Let go.”

“We are going, going home.”

“No! Wanna go with _him_.”

The stranger’s assessing Gwaine now and Merlin is pretty sure his eyes would be blue if the lighting was better. The man gives a feral grin, all pointed teeth and heated eyes.

“You can come too...if you like.”

He can feel Gwaine’s grin against his skin as his friend loosens the hand still in Merlin’s pocket and reaches out to the stranger.

“I’m Gwaine, this is Merlin.”

“Arthur.”

“Seriously?”

“Quite serious, _Gwaine_.”

“Point to you.”

There is too much talking going on and Merlin protests with a wordless whine. He’s grinding back into Gwaine’s pelvis and reaching out for Arthur... _Arthur_.

“Come.” Arthur takes Merlin’s hand and jerks his chin at Gwaine.

“Oh, I hope to.” Gwaine quips and Merlin groans aloud at the terrible obviousness of it.

“You had to, didn’t you?”

“What? Just making conversation!”

“Fuck. No talk, fuck! Wanna fuck!”

“Merlin, mate, seriously, how much have you had?”

“Just a few. You bought me some and Scarface bought me some and I got some more...”

“Three?”

“Thin it was at leas’ four.”

“You’re cut off.”

“Ffffuck it!”

“Yeah, that we can do.”

They’re trailing after Arthur while engaging in what Merlin thinks is brilliant repartee and he can finally see the rest of Arthur’s ink. A dragon? Yeah, definitely a dragon. It’s beautiful work and Merlin thinks he might like to know who did it...later. Right now he wants payment on the intense promise he’s seen in Arthur’s eyes. As they cross one of the pools of light he can see Arthur is golden all over. He has a short spiky thatch of dark blond hair at the top of his head, it stands straight up like a crown while the remainder of his skull is shaved and stubbled in bronze. He can see a further line of honey gold hair following the outer edge of his squared jaw, the rest of his exquisitely carved face shaven clean. The skin under the bronze stubble, black ink and silver steel is pale gold and insanely gorgeous.

It’s dark again and the shadows are crowding closer the further they get from the bar. He can sense people around him in the gloom but he can’t see them. There is a break in the music and suddenly he hears them and the sounds of moist suction and the distinctive slick-slap of skin on skin snaps his tenuous control. The air is heady with the stink of sex and pheromones are so thick in the air that he feels the electricity of power start to crackle on his skin. Much more of this and he’ll start visibly sparking. He stops abruptly and hauls Arthur to him even as Gwaine barrels into his back.

___________________________________________________

Surfacing from the heady drag of tongue on tongue, Arthur is determined to have the lissome creature he’s been eye-fucking for the past ten minutes. However, he can tell that if he wants him tonight, it’s going to be a package deal. The bearded, swishy-haired bloke is clinging like a limpet to the pretty boy. He doesn’t sense possession so much as protection and that’s what decides him. He’ll take them both.

 _Merlin_. The pretty boy has a name and he swirls it around in his head. The kid’s parents were either hippies or bird enthusiasts but currently he couldn’t give two shits. He wants to put his hands, his tongue and his teeth all over that pale, luminous skin _right now._

He leads them away from the light and the press of bodies near the bar. They pass through the spotlit space that serves more as a display area than a dance floor, as if anything anyone here is doing could be described as dance. The club’s been filling steadily while he’s been distracted and he smirks happily as he elbows an open path for the three of them. The take tonight will be good, icing on the cake he’s about to have and eat. He’s heading for a door in the back corner of the room but they don’t make it.

There’s a hard yank on the hand holding Merlin’s and he follows the imperative. He feels the jolt of Gwaine hitting Merlin from behind and the force of it drives the lanky length of his body hard up against Arthur’s. Mouths seek and miss in the dark but drag against skin until they find what they’re looking for. Arthur tilts his head up and nibbles his way over a rounded chin and snags a single lush lip. He parts that lip from it’s companion and slides into the gap between. He skates his fingers along Merlin’s collarbones, up the slender column of his throat and finally buries them in the thick silky mop of his hair.

Merlin moans into his mouth and Arthur doesn’t care if they make the door or not. Merlin is hard against his leg and Arthur can’t help but grind his own denim clad erection against that hard bulge. Merlin is pressing back, bucking his hips and _fuck_ does he feel good! He’s vaguely aware of Gwaine pressing rhythmically into Merlin from behind and the cloying-sweet scent of cannabis rising through the air somewhere close at hand. But Merlin is hot in his hands and hard on his cock and he can’t quite focus on anything else right now. He rotates his hips and feels the hot, hard jut of Merlin’s erection above his, around it and then down under it. He pauses on that upward rotation and suddenly drops his weight, drawing his prick directly across Merlin’s, pressing hard, a forceful friction-drag that pulls a needy moan from deep inside Merlin’s long throat. And now he’s thinking about just how long, how deep that throat really is and suddenly he’s the one groaning loudly and frantically bucking his hips, slamming their cocks together almost violently.

Then Gwaine is reaching around Merlin again and he’s working the zip down on his trousers. Arthur backs off just long enough to rip his jeans open and free his dick and he’s back, pressing himself against the hot sweet flesh of Merlin’s cock. Merlin’s hands are raking down his back and squeezing his arse so he knows that it’s Gwaine’s fingers that have wrapped themselves around their erections, applying delicious pressure as he and Merlin start thrusting wildly against each other. He leans over Merlin’s shoulder and seeks Gwaine out. The lovely Irishman doesn’t disappoint. His mouth is there, hot, wet and open so Arthur plunges right in. Their tongues are gloriously tangled as Arthur slides his hands down Merlin’s back and plunges them straight inside his pants. He kneads the small, taut cheeks for long lovely seconds before teasing them apart and slipping a finger in between. Merlin keens into his shoulder as he discovers the slick opening and slides in to the first knuckle unimpeded. He curses into Gwaine’s mouth and feels a jolt through his cock when he realizes that Merlin’s already lubed up and loose. His solitary finger retreats only to be replaced by two and Merlin’s flesh snaps close around them as he works them deep into his molten hot core. Bringing his thumb into play he starts pressing circles against the flesh under Merlin’s balls and grins against Gwaine as he feels Merlin jerk and scream before he bites down on Arthur’s neck. Somewhere along the line Gwaine has managed to magically moisten his hands and his shaft is sliding through the snug circle of the man’s fingers, Merlin’s throbbing heat sliding and dragging against his in ecstatic abandon.

Gwaine is as good with his tongue as he is with his hands and it’s a fight not to be overwhelmed at the curl of that wet appendage against his own while Merlin is sucking hard on his collarbone and scraping his nails over the skin of Arthur’s arse. The hot wet slide of their cocks in Gwaine’s warm hands, the scalding heat of Merlin’s fucked-open arsehole gripping his fingers, the deafening pulse of music and the scents of stale beer, sex and weed are pushing him into sensory overload. A small corner of his mind spares a moment to be grateful for the whiskey he’s consumed or this encounter would be ending earlier than anyone would like.

He slides a third finger into Merlin’s wriggling heat, breaks from Gwaine to capture Merlin’s mouth and realizes that the tall slender man is practically sobbing against his lips. Merlin is trembling like a reed in high wind and mouthing words against his skin but he can’t make them out above the din of loud music and shouting club-goers. He’s pressing his ear to Merlin’s lips in an attempt to catch his words when an uninvited body literally crashes their party, followed quickly by a second. Hurled from the anonymous crowd, two men have landed against their little huddle. Gwaine and Arthur manage to hold Merlin fast between them and the only ones who go down are the two drunken men who smashed into them. However, Arthur’s enthusiasm for fucking on the club floor is more than a bit dampened by the collision with the drunken idiots.

___________________________________________________

Merlin knows even before the pileup that Gwaine and Arthur are the only things holding him upright. Gwaine’s got Merlin’s cock snug up against Arthur’s and _that_ fucking glorious man has several fingers buried so far up Merlin’s arse he’s fairly sure they’ll be tickling his tonsils before much more time passes. He’s never felt anything so good in admittedly short life. Sure, this isn’t actually his first threesome, it’s not even his first threesome with Gwaine...in fact that’s how they met but it is his first _public_ anything and honestly, he’s never felt anyone as intensely as he feels Arthur.

He’s lost track of how many fingers are inside him but when Arthur manages to jam yet another in him, Merlin can’t help but start shaking all over. He is begging, _begging_ though he knows he can’t be heard. He just can’t help himself. He needs filling, he needs _cock_ and he needs it soon or he’s going to spontaneously combust!

Arthur is trying, he can tell he’s trying to understand. His ear is against Merlin’s mouth and he is shrieking (dear God, it’s probably a good thing Arthur can't hear him).

“Please, oh fuck, please! I need it, I _need_ it, I need it now!”

He is so far gone he barely notices the bodies impacting against them. However he _becomes_ aware as Arthur’s fingers leave him and Gwaine’s hands retreat.

“No! No!”

It’s OK though, Gwaine’s hands are loosely linked around his waist and Arthur’s are on his wrists tugging him to walk forward. He follows feeling desperate. He’s still too far gone to question it when a rectangle of light suddenly flares to life in the darkness and he’s pulled through the glowing portal, Gwaine following close behind.

“Shit! You work here?”

Trust Gwaine to still have a functioning brain when Merlin feels like he is nothing but a functioning cock. Wriggling fiercely, he is once again reaching imperatively for Arthur while trapped in Gwaine’s arms.

“Some nights.”

“Enough to have keys?”

“Ownership has it’s privileges.”

Even Merlin catches the smug tone there. Gwaine has obligingly loosened his hold on Merlin and he immediately drops to his knees because he can’t stand. His head is still swimming in an alcohol soup and he’s pretty sure he’s managed a contact high as well. He doesn’t care, his new position is perfect for grabbing Arthur’s cock where it’s bobbing free of his jeans. Arthur’s shout would have been enough to make him grin if his lips weren’t already wrapped tightly around his turgid prick. He happily slurps up the thickly dripping pre-cum and swirls his tongue round the head, flicking at the little v-shaped patch under the crown. Arthur staggers a little but he has a firm grip on his rounded arse and he pulls him back, swallowing more of his flesh in the process.

“Fuck! Oh fuck!”

“Yeah, Merlin’s like a Duracell Bunny when you get him going. He’s not gonna stop till he’s satisfied either. Got someplace more comfortable than a stairwell to do this?”

“Hmm? Uh...yeah...uh....upstairs....couch.”

“Come on Merlin, up!”

Merlin ignores Gwaine in favor of continuing to suck Arthur’s cock with loud, sloppy enthusiasm. Familiar with his friend in this mood, Gwaine just picks him up and carries him upstairs, Arthur following behind with a rather dazed look that didn’t seem to fit properly on his face. Merlin would have laughed but he was too busy biting at Gwaine’s chest and whimpering in need.

“It’s alright, we’re not gonna leave you like this, are we Arthur?”

“Fuck no!”

“See? Hush, it’s OK, Merlin. Calm down, mate.”

“Need it, Gwaine, need it!”

“I know, it’s alright, we’re gonna give it to you.”

“Now!”

“Yes, now.”

As soon as his arse hits the white leather of the couch, Merlin is wriggling out of his clothes. He needs to be filled and he isn’t going to stop until he is. Gwaine is standing close and he attacks his friend’s trousers with a single-mindedness that belies his inebriated state. He soon has Gwaine’s cock in hand and he’s stroking it and mouthing at the head as he kneels on the couch. Glancing over his shoulder he’s pleased to see that Arthur has almost stripped off. He stops what he’s doing to Gwaine long enough to appreciate the sight of Arthur in nothing more than a pair of socks.

He doesn’t quite have Gwaine’s perfect definition but he’s bigger, taller and bulkier. The dragon tattoo extends from just under his right ear, down over his shoulder and upper arm and flows across half his smooth, muscled chest. Merlin is unsurprised to note both nipples are pierced, slim steel rings threading through the pebbled pink-tan flesh. He sees that there is more tribal ink snaking over his left hip and thigh. Now properly lit, he can see that Arthur is indeed golden all over from the pale champagne of his sweat-sheened skin to the ripe-wheat of his hair. His eyes are far more intense a blue than Merlin had suspected, a rich shade of ultramarine. His cock is thick and gorgeous, rising from a nest of wiry bronze curls. Merlin reaches an imperative hand out for it.

“Lose the socks.”

___________________________________________________

Arthur snorts in amusement at Merlin’s demand but he sits down on the lounge end of the couch and peels the offending fabric off his feet. It’s his office, he trusts the floor here even if he doesn’t anywhere else in the building. Meanwhile, he appreciats the view afforded him by Merlin’s spread legged pose on the couch.

 _Gods but he has a fantastic arse!_

Merlin is even more beautiful with his clothes off than he is fully dressed. He’s slim and wiry without a superfluous ounce of flesh anywhere on his long elegant body. Shoulders broad enough to escape fragility stretch proudly over a long tapered back leading to narrow, slinky hips and a tight, sweet little arse. He runs a finger over the slight protuberances of Merlin’s spine and grazes his knuckles across faintly prominent ribs. His hands shape Merlin’s narrow waist and glide over the silky skin stretched over sharp, gorgeous hip bones. Finally, he lets his fingers slide back over the arse they’d been so happily buried in just a few minutes before. He palms the shallow swells and stares at the prettiest hole he’s ever seen. Pink and perfectly round, deep and glistening, it winks invitingly at him from the wide space between taut, narrow cheeks. He slowly sinks his thumb into the clinging heat and curses in fascination as it disappears from sight.

“Fuck that’s pretty!”

“Yeah, isn’t it?”

Gwaine grins at him from his position near Merlin’s head. Full pink lips are already wrapped tightly around the long haired man’s cock and he’s watching Arthur’s reactions with a fond sort of amusement. Part of Arthur’s mind registers the sculpted perfection of Gwaine’s lightly tanned body but the majority of his attention is on the porcelain-pale man stretched between them. Arthur continues to work his thumb in and out of Merlin’s arse, slowly pumping it as he stares raptly at the way the slick flesh parts and clings to him. Leaning down he begins dragging his teeth across the satiny skin stretched under his palms. He lets his thumb slip from Merlin’s body and replaces it with his tongue.

“Mmm, raspberry?”

Gwaine laughs and nods gleefully.

“Yeah, black raspberry to be precise.”

Arthur can taste latex as well as the fruity lube but it doesn’t bother him. Under both of those he can taste _Merlin_. He dips his tongue in and out of that delicious well like a cat licking cream, delicately savouring the flavour, the heat and the soft-slick flesh inside Merlin’s entrance. Arthur’s already addicted. He’s worshipping Merlin’s arse and he’s never adored anything so much in his life. He’s straight-out tongue fucking him now, thrusting into that wet heat as far as he can go, wiggling and swirling his mouth muscle inside with abandon. Merlin is moaning and keening around Gwaine’s cock and even the laid back Irishman is groaning with appreciation. Arthur nibbles and sucks and wiggles his tongue as deep as he can get it inside the tight cavern of the pale man’s body.

“Damn, Arthur. You really love to eat, don’t you?”

“Mmmmmm...yeah but fuck, never like this...he’s...fuck....”

Merlin is pushing back against him and his cries are reaching a fever-pitch as Arthur indulges his oral fixation. After several more minutes though, he’s clearly had enough. Pulling off Gwaine he pouts over his shoulder at Arthur.

“For fuck’s sake! Will you fuck me already?”

“You don’t like getting eaten?”

“Fuck! Yes, but I want your cock now! Fuck me, goddamn it!”

Smirking, Arthur rises to fetch a condom and more lube from his desk. Rolling the latex on he slicks up with the clear fluid.

“Sorry, no fruit flavors here!”

“Will you stop fucking teasing me you prat and get your cock up my arse already?”

“Bossy thing, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea, mate! Normally he’s sweet as pie but get him horned up and watch the fuck out!”

Lining up his cock with Merlin’s pretty hole, Arthur takes his time sinking inside. He wraps his hands round Merlin’s hips when he tries to force himself back onto Arthur’s cock. Again, he’s grateful for the alcohol he consumed earlier or he’s sure he never would have made it this far. He can’t ever remember being this turned on before. Merlin’s body opens like a flower for him and he teases him a bit, giving him just the head and pulling out before sinking back in and giving him another inch. Another withdrawal then two inches, teasing them both until finally he’s seated balls deep inside Merlin’s sweet clinging warmth.

Gwaine, cock still buried between Merlin’s lips, leans over and starts kneading the pale white arse cheeks, parting and squeezing them around Arthur’s cock as he starts stroking Merlin slow, deep and hard. His hands tug Merlin in to meet each thrust but keep him from bouncing as fast as the wiry man wants. Arthur leans down and kisses Gwaine again, slipping his tongue along the other man’s with a lazy, sensual slide. Merlin wriggles impatiently between them.

Suddenly Gwaine pulls away and seems to convulse.

“Fuck! Merlin! Fuck, fuck, fuck!!”

___________________________________________________

He’s growing impatient with Arthur’s slow pace. He wants fucked and he wants it now! The other two men are making out over his back and he’s finally had enough of their teasing. Merlin sucks as hard as he can at the head of Gwaine’s cock, knowing damn well how sensitive his friend is. He grins when he hears the shout but he just sucks harder, sliding further down the flesh filling his mouth. Knowing how close Gwaine is now, Merlin continues the assault with no shame slipping the turgid prick down his throat he swallows and hums and hollows his cheeks until he gets what he wants.

“Fuck! Cumming! Cumming, Christ! You bloody little wanker!”

Merlin happily slurps up the salty spill and let’s go. Gwaine staggers back and sags into a chair a few feet away. Finally, Merlin is free to focus on Arthur’s cock in his arse.

“Watch it mate, he’s a bloody attention whore when he’s getting fucked.”

“Fu-fu-fuck y-you!”

“Leaving that to Arthur for the mo.”

“Arrggg!! Fucking fuck me Arthur, stop fucking about!”

In response, Arthur pulls out entirely and Merlin screams wordlessly in frustration. However, Arthur’s already tugging on his hips, urging him back against him as he lies on his side on the couch. He’s sprawled across powerful thighs and the man is threading his cock back inside Merlin and seating it with a long, deep thrust of his loins. Merlin spreads his legs as wide as he can and sinks down onto that lovely knob and writhes around like a cat.

“Fuck yes, oh yeah. Deeper...deeeeeeppp!”

Long, smooth strokes are finally filling him the way he wants, deep and wide. He’s stretched and stuffed full of Arthur’s maleness. He’s barely aware of the hand wrapped gently around his throat but he responds to the subtle pressure and turns his head to meet Arthur’s questing tongue. Another hand is wrapped around his aching cock and he thrusts into the gripping fingers even as Arthur presses hard up into his body.

  
Gwaine is watching them from where he’s sprawled in his chair. A lazy, appreciative grin adorns his handsome, bearded face. Merlin reaches a hand toward him, smiling.

“Suck me?”

Some type of eye exchange happens over Merlin’s shoulder before Gwaine steps up to him and sinks to the floor beside the couch. Merlin wriggles and sighs happily as his friend engulfs his needy cock in his hot wet mouth. A few minutes later he’s keening and spilling and Gwaine swallows his offering and smiles at him before collapsing in a sprawl on the floor.

Arthur’s thrusts are becoming more and more erratic, his breath huffing in Merlin’s ear and he tightens up around the thick shaft filling him so well. Then Arthur is cumming, gripping Merlin tight in his arms, a long throaty groan escaping him as he slams deep inside Merlin and freezes there. When Arthur finally relaxes against him, he turns his head and kisses him.

“Thank you.”

Arthur smiles

“Don’t thank me yet.”

“What?”

“Gwaine? I think this greedy little thing needs some more attention, don’t you?”

A chuckle floats up from the floor.

“Yeah, you may have something there.”

Before Merlin knows what’s happening, he’s being flipped onto his stomach. He attempts to look over his shoulder but a gentle hand firmly pins him against the couch.

“Relax.”

Then there are fingers, lots of fingers, one after another easing into the loose ring of his arsehole. Pulling, stretching, teasing, stroking. He writhes under the attention, moaning and whimpering.

“Oh God! S-s-sadists!”

Both of them are laughing and he’s begging again, this time for mercy. They eventually relent and he pants in satisfied relief. Arthur drops down beside him and pulls him over to sprawl on top of his chest while Gwaine eases onto his side, wedging into the space behind them. Merlin flings an arm across his waist and feels Gwaine’s arm wrap across his back..

“Gwaine?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for making me come out tonight.”

“Any time, mate.”

He kisses Arthur again before drifting off to sleep wrapped up in both of them.


End file.
